Of Dreams and Truth
by MRAY 4TW
Summary: They've always had the appearance of hating each other and constantly being at each other's throats. But in the wake of an accident that leaves one in a coma and nearer dead than alive, it'll take a bizarre event and the intimacy of sharing memories and thoughts to bring Alvin and Brittany closer together. A new meaning to 'on my mind'. Alvin x Brittany/Alvittany (Complete)
1. Anger into Dusk

**M. Ray 4 The Win:**

 **Yeah, this is he. MRAY 4TW.  
-Hello everyone, I welcome you to my concept that's been in my head for quite a while but eventually decided to give it to the AATC fandom instead of making it completely original, with unique characters invented by myself. (Aw, shows how much I care.)**

 **There's no plan. I guess the direction the fic goes will surprise even me. Anyway, please enjoy it. However, please note that this is a one-shot fic. It'll only go by about 4-9 chapters. I'll be condensing it. Also, please note that I'll be going with the size (and growing capability) from the nineties version. Just for the sake of having certain elements; you know, later on.**

 **-I will not be giving any more Author Notes whatsoever. I'll be silent until the end of the fic and give chapters their own names, for the first time. But I'll have the disclaimer done this once-**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. I don't own their characters, personalities, ideas, etc. All of that belongs to the Bagdasarians and J. Karman.**

 **1\. Anger into Dusk**

Alvin sniggered to himself as he hid behind the board fence, waiting patiently. Anyone could take a look at him and know that he was up to no good.

As usual.

He looked up towards the sky as he waited. It was a cool, early evening and the sun was setting, casting orange and red hues across the sky. By now, everyone should have been inside with their families, perhaps having supper, having good camaraderie or just relaxing.

Well, he was just waiting on something to interrupt the peaceful evening. Any minute now...

A voice screamed from inside the house at the top of their lungs.

"Guess she had to go to her room eventually, eh?" On the inside, he felt disappointed with himself, but he grinned mischievously as he heard tell-tale signs of panting. He counted to five slowly. "1...2...3...4...5..."

"AAALLLVVVIIIN!" The voice from before screamed again.

'Is it safer to run or is it safer if I just kept hiding?' The chipmunk wondered. 'I got her attention now, didn't I?'

The back door burst open suddenly and an enraged Brittany practically flew out, brandishing a fake rubber snake before she ripped the sturdy toy in two with her bare hands. The most noticeable thing about her besides her rage was that her face had a long streak of red lipstick on it from her lips to her upper left cheek; she might have been frightened by the now-ripped snake while she was putting it on. "Alvin, that was the last straw! When I find you, I'm gonna-"

Alvin's eyes widened when he heard what she shouted next. 'Oh boy. Is she that pissed over a rubber snake? Can't stick around anymore. It'll probably be better to run.' He started crawling away from his hiding place, trying to escape while remaining hidden. Unfortunately, the livid chipette saw movement through the cracks of the fence. Furthermore, it was the tattletale shade of red. It was really easy to put two and two together.

"There you are!"

Alvin lost the rest of his composure when he heard that and had to get up and run like demons were after his soul. It might as well have been, as the girl looked like she was intent on neutering him with a rusty knife. It was what she had threatened after all. Alvin valued what he had, thank you very much.

"It was just a joke!" He yelled at her behind him as he tried to stay ahead of her.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack! Let's see how you live without yours when I rip it from your chest!" She, for a second, caught up just enough to catch a hold of the tail of his shirt. However, the speed at where they were going, she only succeeded in ripping it in a tear from tail to mid-back.

"A little rubber snake gave you a heart attack?" He nearly laughed but he focused more on running. He couldn't believe that she was this fast. Hell really had no fury like a woman pissed, didn't it? Now he felt like he was running for his life.

This was nothing like the previous times when he had scared her or just did a 'normal' prank. Why was she so angry this time, anyway?

If he had known that he leaving the snake in her draw would lead to her smearing half of her makeup across her face on accident when she screamed while she was putting it on, he would have understood. Or if he had an eye for detail and realized that her lipstick and blush makeup wasn't quite where it should be worn...

He just kept running. He should just get to the sanctuary of his house as quickly as possible.

...

Just down the road coming up from the right, an old beat-up Volkswagon chugged up the road with extremely dim headlights. The middle-aged driver squinted from behind sullied windshields and wondered about his car; it hadn't aged very well, or perhaps that had something to do with the upkeep. Either way, he was maxing out the car as fast as he was willing on a residential road like this, eager to get home before night fully came. He was already in enough of life-problems; he certainly didn't need a ticket from the heat about his car's dilapidation.

...

Alvin was focused on living… _very_ focused on running to preserve himself. Brittany could barely keep up with him anymore. She had surprised herself at nearly being his equal at sprints, but the fourteen-year-old girl didn't have nearly as much stamina and her wind was about to leave her. "Alvin, you'd better…" She huffed while she ran, "better take it like a man now, or tomorrow is going to make what I'd do today look like a walk in the park!"

"Then I'll just keep running…for the rest of my life!"

He could see his house now. It was on the other side of the street after he finished running this block. His lungs begged for oxygen, but he knew that he was gaining ground, as Brittany's footsteps sounded a bit farther behind him. He mentally cheered and continued his dash. Although he was slowing, it was she more than he. Perhaps the day would yet be his.

He finally finished the block. It was then that he heard it; the aching sound of a hoary engine. He glanced to his right, but was surprised to see that he could barely see the vehicle; it was just about dark enough that it basically night, yet not dark enough for the streetlights to come on. Not to mention, the headlamps on the vehicles were so dim that it might as well to have not been used. Nevertheless, it wasn't even that close to him so he ran across, secure in the knowledge that he could make it before it was even close to him. "Ha! Almost home free!"

"ALVIN!"

He dared a glance behind him. Brittany was now around seven or eight meters behind him, lagging in speed and stamina but no fury diminished. He grinned in relief. He'd live to die another day. 'Hopefully not tomorrow, though…'

He bounded up the sidewalk almost to the door of his house. "Yes!" He slowed down a bit to not just charge in. However, a chanced glance behind him in the dying light made him see that Brittany had stopped, panting. She couldn't go on any further. She got quite far honestly. Just not far enough.

It was then that the streetlights blinked on, casting their glows about. Inside his vehicle, the driver was forced to blink from the sudden change in light intensity from almost-absent to overbearing. He clenched his eyes shut and was unable to see what was transpiring in the world before him. If only he had kept his eyes open, or at least tried to, he would have stomped his brakes. It still wouldn't have been much use with the worn breaks anyhow, though.

Alvin's eyes bulged when he saw Brittany finally catch her breath and looked up, only to finally hear the automobile. However, when she glanced up at last, she retained a 'deer in the headlights' look and froze.

"Brittany!"

Somehow, on instinct, Alvin's body was already moving towards the frozen chipette. She appeared to have been rooted to the ground, unable to make up her mind whether to go forward or backward. When she had, at last, come to a decision to move backward, it was clear that it was already well too late as the vehicle was by now a mere meter away.

Then red filled up her vision before she felt herself seemingly knocked onto her ass almost to the sidewalk. Before she could question herself as to what could've happened, she saw the car smash into Alvin full on from the side.

The car slammed into him at a speed impressive for its age. His legs broke with a sickening-sounding crack at the hinge joint instantly at the knees by the front bumper and his whole body lifted up as the vehicle accelerated. As his total upper torso was bashed by the hood, Alvin's world erupted into pain and screams before his head got a vicious clout on the windshield that cracked the glass itself. Cries cut silent, his body upped and belted across the front and the top of the car as the vehicle continued another fifty meters before the driver lost control and skidded into a sturdy cement-made light pole. All was now still, including the lone chipmunk who laid still in the street like nothing more than roadkill.

Brittany stared at the scene in disbelief; her mind hadn't yet fully comprehended what had just occurred. It was another few precious seconds when her brain finally grasped the terminal situation, seeing a bit of blood trickle from between Alvin's lips.

"AAALLLVVVIIIIINNN!"


	2. Confusion into Dawn

**2\. Confusion into Dawn**

"I'm sorry, Mr. Seville. There's nothing more we could do."

The line had been uttered through the ages, passed into many languages, made notorious by television, but Dave never knew that the day would come when it would be told to him personally.

Brittany could hear the man's rant through the door to the doctor and looked down. Alvin lied on the bed before her, now-cleaned injuries all over his body and a stitched trench of a gash on his head. Said head had been shaved to get to the harmed location to properly treat it and Brittany was somewhat glad that the head was also silent. She was sure it's owner would have been talking in a hurt voice, so maybe unconsciousness was the only way for him to bear through the pain. But the pain would be waiting for him to wake up, though.

She and the others of the interrelations sat around his bed in the loud silence, listening to his pained breathing and the silent beeps of the EKG machine as he lay in his bed; he was the latest arrival to the Intensive Care Unit and not a single one amongst them had an inkling of what to feel. Well, besides some degree of sadness and depression. But Brittany well and truly didn't have any emotions. She was stuck in a halfway point of Alvin getting something he might have deserved, although he did it to save her. But this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't pranked her, which would have led to the chase…

God, her head hurt.

"This sucks, huh?" Eleanor mumbled.

"Yeah, Ellie." Theodore agreed quietly before he lapsed into silence.

"How did this even happen?" Jeanette asked as if to no one, yet everyone felt the want to answer. The thing was, no one knew how to even begin, or how to answer it properly in the first place. But it was Brittany who summed it up really bluntly.

"He was acting like a tool again. He humiliated me and I chased him right back up to his house. He made it there before me and I wasn't paying attention to the vehicle on the road. He ran back to me and pushed me out of the way. Then the vehicle hit him, and here we are."

She said it so bluntly and the tone was so flat that she worried the others. They couldn't interpret how she felt, or how she _didn't_ feel on the inside. It was with a shaking voice that Simon decided to call it a night.

There were seven people in that room; six that stood around the bed and another that lied in it.

But it was seven people who left.

 **=X=X=**

Brittany quietly went about her bath and slipped on her nightie. She had had a long night. After all the accidents ('it was only one', she reminded herself) the savings ('still' one, she thought), the probings, questionings and having to watch Alvin of all people lie in a bed nearer dead-than-alive, she was more than ready to call it a night. And to think, this was only after a mere three hours after the dusk.

She grasped her head with her right hand while she felt along on the walls with her left; a splitting headache seemed to be drawing a fog in her mind and she could swear that she was not only seeing her hallway but what she was certain was the hallway in Alvin's room as well. They had a somewhat similar design, but it was confusing the hell out of her.

In fact, she didn't even notice Ms. Miller until she bumped into her.

It was a worried adoptive mother who finished escorting her daughter to bed, who fretted over her in her usual way before trying to give her some sort of passing wisdom gained while growing gray hairs. It wasn't just her usual tuning out, but the headache that allowed all of the woman's words to pass over the chipette's head. At the last, Brittany asked for more aspirins, but the woman insisted that she couldn't have any more painkillers on the grounds that she'd risk overdosing with those she had taken already.

With that deed said and done, she let herself fall onto her bed and laid her head face-down into her pillows, wishing for relief and morning.

' _Where am I?' The voice came from the nothing and asked aloud. 'Am I asleep? Dead?'_

 _The voice sounded like two, but spoke as one, in a single accord. They came from something that had no form, yet the owners soon began to behold something like a vision. At first, they knew not themselves, but soon realized who they were as they saw something with familiarity._

 _One voice recognized themselves to be Alvin-…the other recognized themselves to be Brittany._

 _Alvin realized through the vision that he was looking at Brittany from his perspective, but Brittany realized that she was looking at herself from Alvin's perspective. And yet, none of them were aware of each other's presence. They just paid attention to the strange occurrence._

 _ **(~VISION~)**_

 _Looking all around, Alvin could see the telltale signs that it was Valentine's Day. He had the day planned out. His only problem was that his plans always ended going up in smoke._

 _Seeing his target, Alvin leaped over the low fence in a perfect kong vault silently, but in his misstep on the other side, landed on a dry twig and it snapped like a shot. His target looked up from where she was sitting on the bench, but before she could see him, he dived behind a bush out of sight. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing more to warrant her attention, she returned it back to her tablet and continued going through her social media, thumbing through the posts._

 _Alvin laid silently behind the bush, his heart racing. She had nearly caught him. Waiting a minute more, he began to peek through and saw that Brittany was still seated on the bench. He felt for his small messenger bag that rested at his side, still secure on his strap. He knew what was inside, and he just had to muster up the courage to just open it, take it out, and give to her…in her hands._

' _Damn it, Alvin, just do it! C'mon!'_

 _For all his confidence, his agility, his tenacity, he had the bravery of a mouse. Well, it was for good reason. It just wasn't good enough to stop him, though; he was pathetic!_

 _Just…go…over…to…her._

 _After another ten or so minutes, he finally felt like he had the courage. He peeked through the bush again as if to get a lay of where everything was in case he had to bail, but now, he saw someone new seated beside her. It was that boy from school, and he was talking to her._

 _Then the boy presented her with a box of chocolates and bouquet of roses. They both began chattering excitedly before Brittany swept him in a glomping hug._

…

 _Brittany and the boy walked on out of the park and by the exit, they passed a garbage bin. It was almost full, nearly to the point of overflowing. The bin was filled with refuse and trash, but something about it caught Brittany's eye. In the center, resting directly on top of all of the garbage, a single pink rose laid there as if on a pedestal for all to see. The chipette gestured to her companion to it and he scoffed._

" _A_ _ **pink**_ _rose? That's dumb. Everyone knows that you give_ _ **red**_ _roses on Valentine's day. Any girl who got that had the right idea to throw it away. Right?"_

 _Brittany didn't seem as if she wanted to answer, but in the end, she gave a silent nod. "Errm…yeah."_

 _From behind the tree where he sat leaning against it, Alvin ran his sleeved arm over his eyes, but nothing he could do could stop his eyes from bleeding his tears, making his world look as if it was drowning in the tides._

 _Then it all faded to black._

 _ **(~Vision~)**_

Brittany's arctic eyes opened slowly and groggily. Her head still had something of an ache, but not as bad as the night before. At least now it was tolerable.

But moving past that, she realized that she could recall everything that she had dreamt of, and felt freaked out by it. She felt like she had just seen something straight out of _The Twilight Zone_ that she had been forced to watch once with Ms. Miller on her old-fashioned VHS tapes. She slid out of her bed and uneasily went across the room, careful to not wake her sisters who slept on their own single beds to make her way over to her drawer where she hid her diary. After removing it from its hiding place and easing it open to the last page, she revealed the pressed pink rose. She had returned to the bin discreetly from her Valentine's day date that had been two days ago, cleansed the flower with mild sanitizing gel and pressed it. She had never before seen such a beautiful example of horticultural wonder and after some slight research on it, she turned up meanings of it such as 'budding romance', 'innocence', 'beauty' and others of the sort that were too numerous to mention.

That, and it **was** her favorite color, after all.

'But…this was Alvin's?' A flood of memories suddenly came rushing in, reminding her of what had happened the previous night. They were imprinting themselves on the forefront of her mind and refused to leave. She could even recall seeing things from his perspective from what had seemed to be a vision and it was exactly what had really occurred two days ago; it just wasn't from her side of things. She was now certain that it was Alvin's. She gazed at the lone pink rose and a single question, the most important question on her mind, passed from her lips.

"Alvin...wanted to give me this rose?"


	3. Wonder into Noon

**3\. Wonder into Noon**

This was beyond bizarre.

Here she was, in her aftermath.

Last night, she had been pranked. She had nearly been hit by a car only to be saved by whom she butted heads with constantly. She had seen what she had come to believe was a memory from Alvin himself from his perspective of Valentine's day.

And yet, despite all of that, she was nonchalantly having her breakfast.

Pieces of colorful cereal that floated in milk came and went in spoonfuls. She barely had any thoughts that could be disturbed when two slices of toast sprang up from its home of metal to signal to the only other occupant of the kitchen to retrieve her own breakfast.

Ms. Miller deftly buttered her toast with ease of experience before having it. Afterward, she glanced at her adopted daughter who sat on the other side of the table and felt put off by the girl aura. "Brittany? Are you alright, dearie?"

"Fine."

"I've heard that it's the most common lie in the world," the woman said thoughtfully.

"Why'd you say that?"

"To be frank, Brittany? You look calm and yet to me, you come off as disturbed. It's because of last night, isn't it?"

Brittany felt the want to say something sarcastic but chose not to. It was Ms. Miller, no, it was her mother…being a mother. It was obvious, wasn't it? God, she was now so callous. Was she now supposed to be lovey-dovey to Alvin now because ( **if** the vision was right,) he wanted to gift her on Valentine's Day and whatnot? He had been little more than a nuisance for so long, with all of his inconveniences and his pranks! The pranks! And oh, he saved her life when she was chasing him? Then why was she chasing him? Because of his pranks, that's why!

Although his pranks had been harmless…

Well, she wouldn't readily admit that, but the truth was, they were.

"Yeah," she answered at last. "I have a lot on my mind. I dunno…a guy who I'm supposed to hate takes a hit from a car from me. Not sure if I should be sympathetic or-"

"Don't…Finish…That." Ms. Miller added a harsh glare for good measure. "Alvin, to be sure, wouldn't even wish that on you. Do you honestly feel like celebrating that Alvin's in a coma?"

"No. No!" Brittany heavily waved her hands to emphasize her answer while shaking her head. "It's just that-"

"Yes?" The woman's answer was so icy that it told Brittany that she was treading carelessly in troubled waters.

"Well…it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't…pranked me." The last came out like a low squeak as if from a timid mouse.

"Is that so?" Ms. Miller asked as if she was warming up to her favorite subject. "You know, boys and men aren't as expressive as us. They get easily embarrassed when trying to say something even remotely related to the word 'like' at a young age. There's a reason we mature faster."

"Uh huh. Obviously, 'cause Alvin's still pulling pranks."

"Exactly. The only way they are able to express themselves is through joshing, competition and…"

"Pranking," Brittany finished.

"Yes." Ms. Miller nodded. "They tickle girls as an excuse for body contact, pester them if they like other guys and make fun of starring 'Romeos' in movies when they're jealous, prank a person they like to get their attention…" The woman trailed off, wondering if her daughter got the hint. It was only for a little while before the girl's eyes widened nearly to the size of saucers.

"What? Alvin _liked_ me? Ms. Miller, I don't think we share the same sense of humor." This was what she said, yet her voice didn't exactly make her sound confident. Ms. Miller didn't care; she had only planted the seed, so all that remained was for it to completely take root.

"He only pranked you, didn't he? No one else?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Always competing with you?"

"Heck, even I do that with him. That's nothing new and it doesn't mean anything!" Brittany got up to place her now empty bowl in the sink. She didn't miss seeing her elder raise her eyebrow coolly as if to question whether or not she liked the chipmunk. However, she ignored it, "anyway, I've got to go to school anyhow. I must be running late, like the usual."

"Hmm…" Ms. Miller got up from her seat and went over to her and felt her forehead. "You really must've overdosed on aspirins after all. Do you want to go to school? You're late?"

"Yeah! Aren't I?" She didn't know if she was currently late, she was just appealing to the woman's nature of never wishing for them to miss even a day of school. She was only looking for a way to get out of the woman's presence.

"Um…Brittany? What time does school call?"

"Nine in the morning."

"Do you normally catch me having breakfast?"

"Err…no."

"Brittany…it's five in the morning and the sun isn't even up yet."

Well, that was an interesting bit of news, wasn't it?

"Besides that, you should probably take the day off. Stress, maybe even Post-Trauma-Stress-whatever is affecting you. Back to bed with you, young lady."

"I'm fine! Really!"

Ms. Miller leaned in closer and peered at the girl's face. "Are those bags under your eyes?" The woman fibbed without batting an eyelash.

Five minutes later, Brittany was back in bed, her face burrowed into her pillows while wishing for sleep. Reasons for this were mostly petty for her appearances, but her headaches were starting to act up again, and judging from the revelation she had just had about her unusual awakening time, she was terrified of taking any more aspirins.

"Damn it, Alvin! You liked me, huh?" She mumbled furiously, "if you did, you sure had a messed up way of showing it!"

More and more, her mind tried to turn over the idea, but a small portion of it refused to accept it, on the grounds that proof was extremely limited. That was entirely understandable.

Soon, she turned over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her mind and heart-related functions began to slow and all of a sudden, her room's features started to mirror that of Alvin and his brothers' own. She hadn't realized it, but she had already fallen asleep.

 _ **(~Vision~)**_

 _Alvin opened his eyes and immediately went into panic mode before leaping out of bed. "Crap-crap-crap! Valentine's day is tomorrow! I gotta-"_

" _Put on some pants?" His brother said from where he sat at the computer when he looked up from where he was working. "You slept in again, and need I remind you, in boxers. **Just**...boxers."_

 _Alvin looked down to see that his brother was right. "Jeez. Simon, since you're basically a know-it-all, what kind of a gift should I-"_

" _Flowers. Typical Valentine's gift."_

" _Well, she's not typical."_

" _Which 'number one girl' is it this time?" Simon asked carelessly before he went back to his browsing._

" _Really? I've never really had my eyes on anyone else-"_

" _Not any_ _ **one**_ _girl, to be sure. You must've had at least two dozen infatuations."_

 _It wasn't the first time Alvin had heard this word from Simon and fortunately, he knew the meaning. "No, I haven't! They have infatuations for_ _ **me**_ _!"_

 _Well, his ego hadn't diminished in the least, and Simon told him so. "So, Romeo, what are you going to do? Too late to grow flowers or to have them shipped here. Flower shops are probably all out of red roses too. The next best thing is to give this belle a card. Hope she doesn't find it too corny for your ego's sakes."_

" _No. I've got something way better in mind than even red roses! Pink roses! That's a thing, right? I bet those are still available, and I bet she'd appreciate them more."_

" _Is this 'she' supposed to be Brittany?"_

" _What?" Alvin immeadiately went on the offensive. "I didn't say anything about Brit-"_

" _I'm the smartest of us for a reason," Simon said smugly. "By the way, pink roses are more expensive. A bouquet of them right now would make sure you never get into a college. No tuition."_

" _You're just saying that!" Alvin scoffed._

…

 _His heart fell when he heard the florist repeating the price of the pink roses again when he had asked to confirm it. He had thought that Simon was exaggerating, but now he had to wonder how the hell the florist got a hold of the pink roses in the first place. "Probably growing them for herself, or she's painting them, or something. Oh…paint! I can paint one pink, right?" He asked himself excitedly. He soon rejected the idea, though. "Nah. Too cheapskate. I should just get the real deal, just like Brittany is. Ugh, did I just say that? ~Corn alert~," he muttered the last in sing-song._

 _Once at home, he picked at Dave's pockets and nerves, trying to wheedle the man for money. That failed miserably, and nearly earned him a grounding for the rest of the day. Instead, he nipped at his brothers and all avenues for money before he was forced to give up on them. At the last, he turned to his insurance and his rainy-day coverage…his savings._

 _People little knew that he saved money, as they thought it was impossible. It was known even less how much he had, but no matter what, he didn't think he even had enough._

 _He cracked his ceramic piggy bank open, searched all of his pants and shorts for change, raided the bottom of the couch and the washing machine for any loose coins and even offered to mow a lawn or two for his neighbors to get paid during the remainder of the day. He hoped he had enough before he swept everything into his messenger bag and broke quite a few land trespassing laws and rules and nearly broke his own legs to get back to the florist's before she closed for the day._

 _Fortunately, he got there just as the woman was about to close up shop. Quickly pleading his case and counting the mountain of coins atop of the woman's counter, he gave her all the money he had, only to turn up a single pink rose in return._

 _Although it was mostly last-minute ditch effort, he still gave quite a lot to get the rose and a lot more effort than he would normally put out to achieve something. And there was the issue that he normally only found it possible to spend money that wasn't his…it only went to show how much he had invested in this single pink rose and his hopeful outcome for tomorrow._

 _Then everything faded to black._

 _ **(~Vision~)**_

She found herself rooted and grounded once more in reality when she opened her eyes. The room was now vacant, save for she; Ms. Miller must've gone to work and her sisters must've already left for school and left her behind in the empty house.

Her internal clock felt like a mess; a glance at the digital clock next to her told her that it was a bare couple of minutes before noon. A wry smile came on her face as she wiped at her eyes. "I'm the 'real deal', huh? Yeah, that **is** corny."

She slipped out of her bed to approach the chest of drawers and opened her drawer to withdraw her hidden diary. She flipped it open to the last page where the rose was kept and gazed at it once more. After a brief while, she retrieved a pen from the book's binding and wrote on the blank page next to the rose:

 _Thanks, Alvin!_

She placed the pen down, but she unconsciously took it back up and went back to the same page where she had written. She could only stare in befuddlement as her hand began to write below her abstract courtesy as if it had a mind of its own:

 **You're welcome!**


	4. Worry into Afternoon

**4\. Worry into Afternoon**

Brittany felt a shiver run down her spine uncontrolled as she huddled against the foot of the bed on the other side of the room, far away from her diary. Said diary remained open on the last page where the rose was and the abstract courtesy she had written out to Alvin...wait...Alvin...

Suddenly feeling angry at herself, she fumed with a sigh. "Damn it, Alvin! This has got to be a prank. He's always pranking me, right? But how could-...how could he make my own hand write that? The handwriting's as sloppy as his, too. I don't write at all like that!"

Hold on...there was one crucial bit.

"Wait..." She started shivering again. "This can't be Alvin's doing. Alvin's..." She inhaled deeply, trying to mend her fraying nerves. "Alvin's in the hospital. He's in a coma. He got hit by a car trying to push me out of the way."

Hearing herself speak, she realized that there was a new strain in her voice.

She…cared? Yes, she did.

Maybe she had cared all along. Maybe she had been fighting with herself to **not** care, or maybe it was the other way around. It didn't matter. Some part of her, the part of her that hated the crap that Alvin sometimes pulled. But did she really care? Or was it because somewhere along these lines, she was at risk in all of this? Going crazy or becoming possessed with some kind of bad juju? Something, maybe everything wasn't right.

Alvin pranked her.  
Alvin saved her.  
Alvin got hit by a car.  
Alvin was in Intensive Care.  
Alvin was in a coma.  
Alvin, Alvin, Alvin.

Great, now her mind was becoming one tracked.

So, if Ms. Miller was right, Alvin only pranked her when he wanted her attention? Was he looking forward to getting pummeled last night? Did he want to get yelled at?

Well, now that she thought about it, she could hardly remember a time she associated with him without her chewing him out about something he did, or chasing him whenever she snapped. Was he that desperate to get noticed by her?

Man, she used to think she had guys figured out. Besides, it was even the guys that would say that girls were complicated and she would be inclined to agree. Now, she could hardly tell left from right anymore, it seemed. And the diary…the room…maybe even the house didn't seem so secure and safe anymore.

The Miller decided that she had to get out of the house. She decided to take a walk.

 **=X=X=**

"So where's Brittany?"

"She's at home. Ms. Miller told us to leave her in bed. She seems kinda out of it."

"Really? I guess she really is," Theodore commented. "I didn't like how she talked last night. It's like she didn't care. She hates Alvin, doesn't she?"

"No. Or at least, I don't think so," Jeanette replied as they began to unpack their lunches from their bags and sacks. "Would you be crying over a person who basically annoys you and pranks you every day?"

"No," Theodore admitted as he removed his egg salad and sandwiches. "I wouldn't cry. But how she sounded-"

"I think she was just in shock, Theo," Eleanor said, "As I said earlier, Ms. Miller made her stay home. And you know Ms. Miller's always riding us on being in school every day, rain, shine, snow, and hail. We've even had to come in on snow days just to confirm for her that school really wasn't open. She wanted to make sure."

"Yeah, but he saved her, right? At least pretend to be happy about it-"

"Come to think about it, what happened to the driver?" Jeanette cut Theodore off of his current topic. It wasn't much of a topic change, but it was good enough. When they were younger, she used to relate to Brittany and Eleanor about the topic of boys and sure enough, all three of the chipmunks' names had come up multiple times. She was sure that Brittany felt something for Alvin all that time, even now. It was just that Alvin's behavior, or to be more specific, his excessive pranking, had lessened it at the worst, or only repressed it. She was sure that is Alvin was to even dial back on a number of pranks he did, the two of them would be more than just friends.

Today, they were both missing. Anyone could tell.

In their school, the tables were of a classic 'picnic table' design; the chipettes sat on one side and the chipmunks on the other. However, there was a big space between the chipettes in the middle, as well as the chipmunks.

"The driver…he…um…perished," Simon said hesitantly. He wasn't exercising his vocabulary just because he could, but because Theodore was around. No need to let him know that the driver died horribly, mangled and deformed when they pried him off of the inside of his windshield. The dangers of not wearing a seatbelt and making a 'sudden stop' without having it on were quite true. After removing his lunch, he realized it was all for naught. "Um…it's our planned potluck day, isn't it?"

Eleanor nodded. "Yeah."

They sat like that, no one really moving or saying anything. But in many ways, Theodore who could be sometimes called 'Timid Theo' was sometimes the one that had to break the ice or challenge issues when the situation demanded it. "Alvin is usually the one with the dessert, with his candy bars and Brittany is usually the one with the salad, because of her dieting sometimes. We can't even start, and we can't finish. It was only yesterday they were here beside all of us, arguing like the usual. But now, it's…it's hard not having them around."

"It is," Simon quietly agreed. He absentmindedly pushed his food forward away from himself. "I'm not feeling hungry."

"Me neither."

They all felt the same way.

 **=X=X=**

"I'm going out of my mind!" She worried.

Brittany had no idea how or why she even thought it was a good idea to pass through the park on her walk. She couldn't bring herself to run away when she began to see visions or hallucinations or just nuances of the dreams she'd had recently. She stood at the low fence that Alvin had jumped over and swore that she could see Alvin's 'vision self' hiding behind the bush, trying to muster his courage by muttering pep talks to himself. She was experiencing the vision again from a normal perspective, like someone on the outside looking in.

She wished for the visions or whatever they were would stop; they didn't oblige. They became more stark and vivid in her reality and in her frustration, she climbed over the very same fence that Alvin had gone over, although she didn't quite manage it so gracefully. In fact, she nearly face-planted when she tripped on the other side and got back up angrily. "Damn it!"

There was no one else about but she wouldn't have cared for stares if they were there watching the girl begin to yell furiously at what appeared to be nothing. She fumed at Alvin's 'vision self' as he finally nerved up himself but when she saw him stare at her vision self on the bench with the boy from school, (strange, she couldn't even remember his name. ''Tim' something, right?')

"Oh…" She saw her 'vision self' hug the boy. It was mostly out of appreciation at the time why she had hugged him so tightly, but Alvin had probably realized right then and there that he failed to gift her the pink rose.

And the look on his face when he realized that…

Brittany stopped her fuming. She had seen this before; back in her first vision last night, she had experienced this in Alvin's point-of-view. She had felt his sadness and disappointment as a result but now, to look at his face, he looked…heartbroken.

She didn't know she had it in her, but she tried to reach out and hug the red Seville. She failed in doing so; her arms passed through him as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Not one, really, but like one. This was a hallucination/vision after all. But she didn't grasp this. She kept trying, failing, trying, failing, trying, failing.

Finally, 'hallucination/vision' Alvin made it to the garbage bin and took out the rose out of his messenger bag. Brittany silently watched him as he held it his hands and thumbed the petals as if he was making up his mind about something. Finally, he tossed the rose into the bin and slowly limped behind a tree, crying the whole time.

It was hard not to feel empathetic when she saw and observed all of this. Brittany shrugged to herself and followed him to where he was. There had to be a method to the madness, and thus far, she had only learned new things about Alvin since…the accident.

She kneeled beside him as he sat slumped against the tree in its shade. "It's alright, Alvin, it's fine, okay? I didn't know then. I know now, right?"

Of course, he didn't hear her or acknowledge that he could even see her. This wasn't real. This was all in her head, right? This could even be her conscience bugging her about not feeling more sympathetic to when he saved her and nearly died because of it.

"He's not here, Brittany!" She yelled at herself. "Alvin's in the hospital!"

She started to wonder…what if her mind was playing some huge trick on her. It was her first time seeing a pink rose at the time, so naturally, she just felt like she had to have it. Everyone had a hobby, and hers was pressing flowers. To see a flower like that, she didn't want to pass it up, so she just came back for it.

But if her mind was playing tricks on her, why would it make it up that Alvin was the reason that the flower came to be in the garbage in the first place? Did she actually feel something for Alvin all this time but hadn't realized it? Or how she was behaving towards him just now in the hallucination-or-whatever-it-was that was going on?

 _Did Alvin love her?  
Did she love Alvin?_

Brittany got up onto her knees slowly while looking on at the crying construct of Alvin. "You're not real. You're made up." She spoke evenly and straight-arrow. The hallucination/vision of what had happened on Valentine's Day faded away, but that didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel worse. Like she was denying something. Denying that she loved him. She didn't…right?

But so many things were weird. They needed explanations. She needed answers. She had so many questions. In fact, where to start asking them? Who to ask them to?

 _"I don't know why this is happening. Why can't I wake up!?"_ Someone cried.

Brittany's head swerved. "Hmm? Who said that?" The Miller looked all around but could see no one about. "Damn, I've really gone off the deep end, haven't I?" She cupped her face with her hands.

 _"Who said that?"_ The voice seemingly echoed. _"B-…Brittany?"_

Brittany clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. "Alvin?"


	5. Bizarre into Night

**5\. Bizarre into Night**

Brittany froze, wondering if she was hearing things. "A-Alvin?" She managed to stammer out the chipmunk's name. She looked all around worriedly, becoming more and more frightened as her mind kept turning over different facts and possibilities. Eventually, she'd already exhausted the possibility that she was being pranked and settled on the notion that she was either being haunted or she was insane. Needless to say, when that happened, she was running away from the park as fast as she could.

" _Brittany?!_ " Alvin's voice called again. _"Brittany!_ _Can you hear me?! Brittany!"_

The girl didn't answer; instead, she chose to ignore it, wishing that she'd be shut of all this madness. She never asked for it. She didn't want any of this! Her legs pumped, as if running could get her away from the voice that seemingly echoed from her own head.

Up one road, down another, across that street, on that avenue. Her legs were getting her home as fast as they could take her. If only her eyes had taken in her surroundings as fast as her legs travelled, she wouldn't have ran full tilt into Alvin's brothers who were in the process of unlocking their front door to enter their home. Event collision consisted of two chipmunks and a nearly mad chipette who ended up in a pile-on.

"What? Brittany? What are you doing here?" Theodore mumbled as he pulled himself together and got to his feet. "Something wrong?"

Simon took a little longer to recover; after feeling about the ground for his glasses that had been knocked clean off of his face and putting them back on, he took in the sight of the frazzled chipette. "Obviously, something _is_ wrong, Theodore. Although I wonder why she's here in the first place. Is it muscle memory from last night that led her to run to our house like a headless chicken?"

Brittany could pick up the tiniest hint of hostility from Simon; he might've been holding it against her why his big brother was in the hospital. She could tell he hadn't meant to say it, but what else could he say when she had just barreled into them like a whack-job? " **Your** house? Don't give me that crap, Simon, this is _my_ house!"

"Uh, no it's not. This is our house." That came from Theodore as he pointed at the house number that was on the doorframe next to the door. "See?"

She felt another wave of bad juju crash over her. "What? I was running…I was running home." She groped about blindly for something to help herself to get back onto her feet, making Simon begin to entertain the idea that that the chipette was out of her mind. He helped her up and looked her in the eyes. Yep, she had that 'crazy look', in her eyes; wild, unsettled, paranoia and fright.

"If you were running home, why'd you run here? Your house is…well, you know where your house is. It's not as if we live in your way."

Brittany was quiet, as if thinking intensely about something. She was trying to figure out why she would have even come here in the first place. "Um…Somehow, this _felt_ like home. I was running home and…" She held her head, as if in pain. She got the distinct feeling that she had a fishhook in her mind and it would only hurt if she tried to remove it; the more and more she tried to think of a logical explanation, the more her head ached. Without any more vocal acknowledgment, she turned her back and walked home, heeding her path more carefully, lest she make another mistake. A pair of spectacled eyes watched her leave and as he did, Simon came to the apprehension that Brittany had lost her mind.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin walked through the darkened hallways, feeling about for the light switch. At last, he found it and flicked it to 'on'. The lights briefly flickered, making the boy fret that the electrical fixtures would give out. However, they didn't fail entirely; they gave off a dull incandescent glow as if there was low power in the house. Looking around, he realized that he was in the hallways that led to the front door.

He was almost out.

He tried the door and turned the knob. It was locked.

"Damn!" He struck at the door in anger and disappointment. He tried again, but the stiff doorknob refused to budge. "So, I'm stuck in some dream where I'm in Brittany's house? What's the point of all of this?"

It was true. He felt like he had been stuck in this house for ages, wandering seemingly infinite hallways that wound around each other like a maze. He knew that this was the Miller household; he could tell from the old-fashioned light fixtures that Ms. Miller liked. That, and the family photos that hung here and there, although most were identical. They only served to confuse the hell out of him and make him feel even more displaced than he already was. Things in the house had gotten weirder and weirder ever since he had read Brittany's diary; when he did _that_ , he did not know.

All of it was peculiar. The last thing he could remember was seeing Brittany standing in the middle of the road, panting from her exertions. He could vaguely recall running towards her, but that was it. Afterwards, he had come to wake up in the girl's bed, utterly displaced and confused as to why he'd be there in the first place.

Naturally, his first reaction was getting out and call about the house, yelling to anyone who would and could answer him, but to no avail. His next prerogative was to get to the exit, to leave the house. After making the unfortunate discovery that everywhere was locked tight as if from the outside. In a matter of speaking, he tried to amuse himself, hoping that the absent occupants of the house would soon arrive and just let him out (if this wasn't some whole backwards prank on him) and this would all be sorted out. The television was the first he tried after what felt like hours of searching, but it was only showing static. He'd soon exhaust all forms of possible entertainment until he came upon the discovery of Brittany's diary; this he found after a lifetime of walking back to the bedroom.

Of course he'd read it. Of course he should have realized that she would write about her day, every day. Of course she'd write about him. Of course he would learn about what kind of regard she held him in.

He didn't know; rather, he **should** have known. He had no idea that he was such a…plain and simple, he was a first class jerk to her. He hadn't meant to. But to comprehend about how he treated her, how she felt, he wished he had known. Hell, he wished that he had told her about how he felt instead of trying to act aloof to her. Or to at least to let up on the incessant pranks; to take it a little damn easier.

At last, he had gone through the whole diary; there was quite a bit of a blank space to the back, so he flipped through it quickly. It was then that he encountered a pink rose. After a small inspection, he was certain that it was _his_ rose, the very one he had wanted to give her.

Valentine's Day was a turning point for him. He had finally reached a point that he was fed up with himself. (Rare) For all of his 'Alvin' bravado, he decided to quit playing the fool and to just tell her how he felt. Only to find her with someone else.

Alvin reached over to the dresser and took up the diary. He flipped through the pages again to where he had seen the rose and the courtesy she had written there. He looked down to where he had written his own response ('You're welcome!') and smiled briefly before it fell in a dejected frown.

"I don't know why this is happening. Why can't I wake up!?" He groaned.

" _Hmm? Who said that? Damn, I've really gone off the deep end, haven't I?"_

Alvin looked wildly around as he heard a voice come from what felt like everywhere all at once; it reverberated around the house. "Who said that?"He asked nervously, realizing that the voice sounded like the pink Miller's own. "B-…Brittany?"

" _Alvin?"_

Yeah, it was definitely her. He dropped the diary back into its place on the dresser, anxious that she might find out about him reading it. But in any case, he might be able to get some assistance. He cupped his mouth and yelled. "Brittany?! Brittany! Can you hear me?! Brittany!"

He got no response. Deciding that she might be somewhere in the house, he took off, hoping to find her.

 **=X=X=**

"I'm not troubled!"

Ms. Miller didn't rise to the outburst. "So there's no reason why you can't go to bed?"

Brittany sat on her bed, huddled in a ball and clutching her knees like a scared six-year-old. "I didn't say that."

"Brittany, we've been over this," Ms. Miller reminded. "I'd allow anything under my roof so long as I'm given a good reason. You still can't even tell me why you refuse to got bed, so I'm not asking anymore. I'm _**telling**_ you to go to bed. It's already only fifteen minutes before eleven pm! You're going to school in the morning!"

Brittany ran it over in her mind. Deciding that there were more cons to telling her mother about what had been happening compared to the pros, she decided to drop the one-sided 'discussion' and nodded to her mother. "Alright."

Ms. Miller saw that her daughter was acquiescing to her demand. "Fine. Goodnight, Brittany" She left the room and on her way out, turned off the lights at the switch and shut the door. Instead of promptly heading off to sleep, however, Brittany tried to stay awake, worrying that she'd only succeed in having more crazy visions about Alvin and whatnot. Her own worry and stress worked with her for once; no matter if it were detrimental, she stayed awake.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin searched through the room, trying to find something heavy enough. He was growing desperate now; his warped sense of time made him feel like he had been stuck in the house for months. Finally finding a heavy knick-knack on a table, he muttered a silent apology before throwing it at the glass window. The heavy wooden curio bounced off of the glass as if the window was a solid wall and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

"Damn it!" He cursed bitterly.

 **=X=X=**

" _Damn it!"_

The voice spoke clearly and echoed through her mind. Brittany was certain that she heard it, that being Alvin's voice; there was no evidence, no cause or reason that she could use to disprove that it didn't happen. She bit her lower lip in apprehension, afraid of what could come about because of her next action.

She answered it.

"Alvin?" She called softly. "Alvin?"

The voice spoke back nearly immediately. _"Huh. Now her voice is haunting me. Either I'm dreaming, or I've gone nuts!"_

She had no idea why, but she took offense to the statement. She's going out of her mind and supposedly one of the voices she's been hearing in her head talks about how it's gone insane, it was enough to completely put in a bad mood. "You? _**You're**_ talking about how you're going nuts? Are you crazy?!" She hissed, posing forward the rhetorical taunting question.

" _I must be. Why else would I be stuck in some nightmare like this? A house that goes on forever, I can't leave, and your voice that sounds like it's talking from inside my own HEAD!"_ Alvin yelled back from what felt like her mind.

It was then that she realized with dawning horror about the truth, an inkling as to how she could hear Alvin's voice in her head, and why it sounded like he could hear her in his. Why she could see his memories, why she knew what he knew.

"Alvin…" She tried to remain calm and keep her voice stable, but was already failing. "I don't think you're in a nightmare."

" _Well, I guess that means I've gone bat-shit crazy, then_." Alvin gave off the vibe that he was giving up.

"No…you're not crazy," Brittany murmured, suddenly afraid. "If I'm not crazy…I think _you're in **my**_ _**head!**_ "


	6. Resolution into Sunup

**6\. Resolution into Sunup**

It was silent. For a moment, Brittany hoped that perhaps she was wrong after all; maybe she really was just a little crazy. Although it was a bleak hope, it was better than the alternative of actually having Alvin in her head. Right? Right?!

Just as she was about to lie down and get some sleep, she heard laughter in her mind; it was Alvin's. "Hmm?"

The boy continued to laugh hysterically. _"This is fantastic…! I'm stuck in your head. I…AM…STUCK! IN! BRITTANY'S! HEAD!_ " She heard a clatter inside her own head, something resembling the sound of a small metal 'something' (such as a paperclip or refrigerator magnet), bouncing off sheet glass. Little did she know that it was Alvin using a fireplace poker he had found and tried to smash his way out of the house through the window, only to fail miserably again. _"This is great! Unbelievable!"_ His exclamations sounded bitter and sarcastic, but the chipette decided that his reaction was reasonable. Who'd want something like this to happen anyway?

But she still took offense. "You think I want someone like you on my mind?"

" _Don't you mean 'IN' your mind?"_ The chipmunk's reply was cynical. _"That is, if this was really-"_

"GODDAMN IT, ALVIN!" Brittany exploded. "Why won't you take this seriously?!"

"Hmm…" Jeanette was roused from her slumber by Brittany's scream and leaned up from her bed to regard her sister. "Huh? Brittany? What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Brittany glanced to Jeanette. "Oh…um…nothing's wrong. It was…you know." Brittany tried to think of a lie, a reason, even a halfway decent excuse for her outburst in the night. "Um…a nightmare."

"About…Alvin?" Jeanette asked unsurely. "You said his name. Or _screamed_ it, to be precise." Brittany didn't answer immediately, and that spurred Jeanette to continue. "Is this about the incident?" Her sister still didn't answer but Jeanette went on. "Look, I don't know how you feel about Alvin, but I'm sure that he'll be alright. He'll soon wake up from his coma."

"I wasn't talking about his coma-" Brittany cut herself off from that line of speech. "Okay. Thanks for that."

Jeanette nodded. "Alright. We need our sleep. We've a test tomorrow and you know how Mr. Flanner is. He's still going to want you to do it, no matter what happened-"

"I know." Brittany turned back into her covers. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Jeanette answered. While she didn't know what to make of Brittany's increasingly odd behavior, but she wasn't one to refuse her nighttime rest. As soon as she realized that Jeanette had returned to sleep, Brittany heeded her volume and spoke lowly.

"Alvin? You there?"

" _It's not like I can go anywhere."_ The teenaged 'munk sounded like he wanted to give up. _"This is…big."_

"I want you _out_." Brittany whispered fiercely. Making sure that her speech had been checked and she hadn't further disturbed her sisters, she continued. "Whatever you did, or any sort of voodoo crap you might have messed with, you better undo it, you hear me, Alvin? Get out of my mind!"

Alvin snorted from inside the imaginative house he was in. _"You think I wanted to be here? I thought you were the one with the answers! But hey, I have an idea...find a nearby wall, then start banging the side of your head against it. Maybe I'll get knocked out of your ear or something."_

"This is no time for any of your dumb jokes!" The girl scream-whispered. All of a sudden, she felt lost. What was she to do? If someone like Alvin could be in her head, then…could he read her mind? Hear what she heard? See what she saw…?!

'Oh my God. Can I even shower anymore? I mean, what if he can see through my eyes or something?!'

The very thought horrified her. What if he could see her memories? And…what about when her 'time of the month' was due to arrive?

Or when she had her…'urges'…

The chipette blushed deeply as she thought of her occasional 'private' moments, before she considered that times like those had come to an end since the arrival of her unwanted spectator. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Alvin calling out to her at first. "Um…yeah? What is it?"

" _Oh…I…uh…"_ His voice sounded tentative, as if he was hesitant to say what he wanted to. _"I…"_

Brittany perked up as she listened to him, trying somewhat to forget her own problems to reflect on his. Sure, she had him stuck in her mind, but he was the one who was trapped there. Not to mention, a multitude of problems awaited him in the hospital, should he ever return to his broken body. But while she mulled over his stammering words, she realized that she was becoming (a bit) like him, to see things like him, feel things like him, even feel his feelings. She was becoming more empathetic towards him, and this aided her in grasping (what she believed), what he was trying to say, and why he was afraid to say it.

"It's okay, Alvin. I'm still here. Everything's going to be okay. We'll find a way to fix this…hopefully. And…um…Alvin?"

" _Yeah?"_

Brittany took a deep breath before sighing. "Thanks. Thanks for saving me."

" _You're welcome, Brit."_


	7. Amends into Daytime

**7\. Amends into Daytime**

Brittany quickly glanced over her returned test paper and broke out in a smile when she saw the grade. "Whoa. A 'B' plus."

" _See?"_ Alvin sounded like he was boasting. _"I told you. With multiple answer tests, you just have to know the teacher, not the answers. Mr. Flanner mostly puts the right answer under 'B' instead of the other letters. Just select 'B' for the questions that you don't know, and you can't fail."_

"Wow." Brittany was impressed. "You know, I was kinda worried that I would've failed his test. History's kinda hard for me. I always wondered how you could sleep in his class and still pass his class."

Alvin puffed out his chest in pride. _"Oh yeah!"_

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Mm-hmm. I gotta admit, I was actually wishing that it was Simon in my head while I took that test," she muttered to keep her 'conversation' private from the other people around her, lest they think that she was weird. "You know, because he's smarter and all."

" _Wait…what-"_

"I'm just joking, Alvin. Thanks a bunch." The bell rang long and loud, signaling the end of the school day. The chipette quickly gathered her things and filed out of the classroom like all the others of her class. She didn't waste any time leaving; she walked out of the school and was already on her way home alone.

Alone, but not truly on her lonesome. Especially considering a certain chipmunk which had taken up a bizarre residence in her mind. Two full weeks had gone by; sure, it had been an incredibly hard adjustment, but Brittany assumed that by experiencing the impossible, it made her more tolerant. She could be jaded; other people had made that observation, but they had all assumed that it was because of the accident.

Then they left her alone.

So what? Everything got stale and old. Sometimes, Brittany wondered if it was just her and Alvin who still remembered it. Sure, Alvin's family as well as her own must still have it on their minds, but not on the forefront of it anymore.

" _So, did you find out anything on the internet? Library books? Anything?"_ Alvin sounded hopeful. _"Maybe even find out how something like this could happen?"_

"Nah." Brittany felt bad about disappointing him. "Sorry. I didn't find out anything-"

" _Brittany."_ The chipette recognized his tone. _"You can't keep going on like this! You keep trying to figure out this mess for yourself and you can't do it alone! Your only excuse is that you're afraid that people will start thinking that you've lost your mind if you start talking about having me in your head. That's selfish. We need some help! Serious help! Come on, I'm the one who's stuck here!"_

"And I'm the one who's going to have to live with that." Brittany said in a rather unkind tone. "Besides, it's kind of hypocritical to hear that kind of talk coming from you, the same guy who couldn't let me have a single day's peace!"

People looked up from where they were minding their own business to stare at the chipette who appeared to be yelling to herself. She had the decency to at least look ashamed before quickly thinking of a lie. She held up a hand to cover up her ear and chuckled sheepishly.

"Heh-heh. Bluetooth isn't working too well." Her lie worked as the passers-by lost interest quickly, although a few still glanced at her every now and again.

" _Smooth save."_

"Sounds like something you would say," Brittany shot back, but speaking in a more hushed tone as she walked. "Look. I've been looking up some stuff online about your coma. Maybe you'll get to go back into your body when you wake up or something."

" _That's the best you've got? A 'maybe'?_ " Alvin sounded horrified. _"Oh no. I'm going to be stuck in Brittany's head for…what? The rest of my life? Your life?"_

The chipette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Whatever. So melodramatic-"

" _I'm being serious!"_ Alvin shouted. The volume made the chipette's head hurt. Although he apologized immediately, knowing from past mishaps about the risks of his high volume, Brittany told him that it was fine, despite having a lingering mild headache.

"You know, Alvin? I was thinking. Maybe this is some kind of strange divine intervention. You know, a 'put-yourself-in-my-shoes' kind of deal. I'm thinking...maybe because of all the dumb pranks you pulled?"

She didn't sound ignorant of all the details. He had constantly tried to dodge this argument whenever it came up, and he was getting weary of it. _"I said I was sorry, okay?"_

"I told you that I saw your memories. I still see new ones, every night. I even got to see a memory of a time before Dave even got to be your father. But I-"

" _Yeah."_ Alvin interrupted. _"And I got to read your diary cover-to-cover heaps of times, and I even get to see new things come up in the diary here when you write in your real one every now and again."_

"What I'm saying is…" She took a deep breath. "We both know each other's secrets. Everything, inside and out. We can't hide anything from each other."

" _Still doesn't stop you from wearing a headband over your eyes whenever you take a shower or closing your eyes every time you go to the bathroom,"_ Alvin said in a humorous tone. _"I already told you that I'm not seeing anything. Geez, I never would have known that you were doing all of that if you hadn't written about it in your diary."_

Brittany tried to fight back a heating blush on her face. "What I'm trying to say…you should just come right out and explain yourself. I want to hear you admit it yourself."

Alvin didn't reply. He merely ambled through the house he was in, wondering about what had brought this on. More importantly, about what he wanted to tell her, _needed_ to tell her.

She had arrived home now, already going in through her front gate. She didn't stop until she had let herself in the empty house and headed upstairs to her bed. She only wanted the peace and quiet, but it was when everything was silent around her, it was then she head Alvin's murmurings clearly. They didn't even know, but Alvin had ended up sitting in the exact same position on her bed in the house where he was stuck in, the very same spot she was lounging in currently. It had something of an intimate effect, perhaps surreal, even if neither of them was aware of it.

" _It was a long time ago. I used to be able to look my friend in the eyes. We could hang out whenever. There was nothing strange about it. But you know…puberty and all that."_

Brittany chuckled at this. "Really? And here I thought that you'd never mature."

" _Har-de-har,"_ the chipmunk fake-laughed. _"But it was then I kinda saw that I was friend-zoned. You didn't want to hang out with me anymore, and there were other people. Other guys, I mean. You had a life. It makes me wish I had your diary then. This 'April 17' entry I memorized said that you had a crush on me, but you were too scared to make the first move. I guess I was in the same boat."_

He sounded like he was settling into his confession. _"I was getting left behind. It was like I didn't have any real presence in your life. After a while, I pranked you once, and all of a sudden, it's like every time you saw me after that, you had to chew me out."_

"You sick guy!" Brittany exclaimed. "You _enjoyed_ having me curse you? Is that why you were pranking me so much?"

It was hard for him to admit all of this, but he went on. " _It's not so much the cursing, but it was the_ _ **attention**_ _. I liked having your attention. Maybe I was jealous of it since I felt like I hardly mattered to you anymore. Like the only thing we could associate with each other is us being chipmunks and that we sing. Period."_

Brittany's face was, to some extent, crestfallen. "But you did matter to me. You're my best friend, Alvin! Or at least…used to be."

" _I've read about how it made you feel, and I'm really sorry-"_

"And I forgive you, Alvin." She smiled shyly, pondering her next move. "I can't say that my feelings for you are as strong as yours is for me after all that you did, but…"

Alvin held his breath.

"…" Brittany held the moment for a bit longer than necessary. "You could try to do something about it."

" _So how am I supposed to date a girl from inside her own head? Huh?"_

"Alvin, you can't stay in a coma forever. One day…" The girl got up to look through her window to see her sisters just arriving home. Her smile grew larger as her aqua-ice eyes started to glisten; she shed a single tear that she swiped away quickly. "One day, you'll wake up. And I'll be the first one there that you see when you open your eyes. I promise."


	8. Regress into Sundown

**8\. Regress into Sundown**

Alvin lied in the sofa, coughing discretely into his handkerchief. The cough was wet and harrowing. By the time that his brief coughing fit had come to an end and he looked at the handkerchief, he wasn't surprised to see new bloodstains in it. He tried to take his mind off of it by gazing towards the television, but it was still showing static. Sometimes, he could see flecks of colour and bits of picture in it, but still mostly gray-grains.

He was bored, in pain. It'd been a constant for the past two things.

He needed to take his mind off of things.

" _Hey, Brit!"_ He called. _"What's happening out there?"_

On the outside, Brittany huffed as she ran around the track for her Phys-Ed/Gym Class. "Can't talk. In a…race!" She hissed gently to herself, trying to save her oxygen for running. "Done with your nap?"

" _Nothing much else to do. Hmm…oh well…why the heck not…Go, Brit, GO!"_ Alvin's voice cheered from her own mind. _"Go-"_ He started coughing, interrupting himself; Brittany frowned visibly when she heard it. It was becoming something of a regular occurrence. While he had blamed it on dust-buildup inside the house **,** she had wondered if her growing stress had anything to do with it, or even consider the fact that he was lying. She was starting to worry, either way. She couldn't help it.

It had been a total of three months since Alvin had been in the accident and lapsed into his coma.

He still hadn't woken up.

Day by day, sure, they had grown closer since their strange mind symbiosis. She still hadn't spilled the secret, even now continuing to investigate causes and cures of their situation. Nothing turned up. They still hadn't given up hope on giving up, but lately, Brittany would be ashamed to admit that she would find it difficult to marry a guy when she literally had another one _on her mind_ , or the likelier future of trying to marry the first one whilst he was in her head.

That would be a bizarre wedding day.

So yeah, she had come to realize in those three months that she was _feeling_ for Alvin. Call it 'like', romanticism, love, crush, infatuation, whatever. She had it for him, and it was growing.

Probably because his lack of pranks on her wasn't killing her feelings anymore, not to mention his attempts at romance whilst still in her mind always brought a smile to her face. She wasn't sure if it was rushed, but she had liked Alvin from the start, right? It had always been there.

Now if only he were on the outside of her mind…

"Brittany!" The coach yelled. "Get the lead out of your socks!"

Brittany was startled by the stern woman's voice which had broken her train of thought. "R-Right!" That's right…she needed to focus. She'd been slowing down a little, but she picked up the little slack she had dropped.

She had been running what had been a fight for fifth place in the little four-hundred meters, at a light jogging pace that everyone else had been doing. It was her usual spot but today…it felt… **wrong**.

So, she sped up. Typically, it was a huge mistake, as speeding up would usually reduce her to walking the rest of the race before long but now, it felt like it was below her potential.

Was she acquiring Alvin's drive? His ambitions to be the best? His speed and endurance? Not sure what or which, but she was speeding up and it wasn't taxing on her at all; it was easy.

"Excuse me," she called, as her running speed increased, weaving between those who were ahead of her. Her racing position rose easily, before she encountered Peggy Brash, the fastest of her class.

Peggy sometimes ran to represent the school in races of their age group and she liked to let everyone know about it. Brittany grinned to herself as she passed Peggy with little effort, realizing that she could run as swiftly as she did, perhaps even better. Brittany could see the surprise on the girl's face…then she felt a shoulder flay right into her side. Brittany nearly veered right off the track and fell; in fact, to everyone's surprise (including Brittany herself), she broke down into a shoulder roll. Brittany's world turned topsy-turvy before righting herself back on her feet.

The coach's jaw dropped. 'Did she just do a pk-roll to stop herself from falling flat on her face?!' The coach was further surprised to see the girl start off running again and anyone could tell from the chipette's face that now, she meant _business_.

Her arms slightly swung, legs pumped. All the distance she lost was toiled for, and regained. There was none more surprised than Peggy when she saw the girl she had (intentionally) dealt with treacherously already upon her once more, but that surprise turned to horror when Brittany repaid her with the same dirty tactic. Pain aside, Peggy didn't fare off well when Brittany rode her own shoulder into her (Peggy's) side. Nor did she recover nearly as gracefully; in fact, she fell comically, and painfully, in a sprawl unto the field from off of the track.

"That's payback!" Brittany growled before she kept on running. Adding a spurt to her speed, she flew across the line, far in the lead. "Huh…first time for everything, right Alvin?"

" _Um…Brittany? Don't you think you might've taken that a little bit too far_ - _"_

"Graah! Brittany, that was a foul!" Peggy fumed as she cut across the field to shorten the distance to the finish line. "You rammed your shoulder into me!"

Brittany rolled her eyes as the girl came to face her. "Hey, turnabout is fair play. Besides, everyone saw that you did it first-"

*SLAP!*

Brittany's hand flew up to hold her offended cheek, some pain coursing through it. Everyone was interested now (to say the least), staring at Peggy who had left her hand imprinted in Brittany's face, reddening the chipette's cheek. It wasn't as painful as it sounded, but Brittany hardly paid any attention to that; anger welled up inside her as much as her own embarrassment. Her fists balled tightly, her own nails nearly digging into her own palms. Brittany gritted her teeth as her fury reached its boiling point.

"You… _hit like a_ _ **bitch**_ _!_ " She punctuated the last word by smashing her fist into Peggy's nose, knocking her to the ground. Peggy started bawling; a squealing sound as the pain of her hurt bit into her cries.

Of course, Brittany wouldn't think anything of it…not until she landed in the Gym-Instructor's office a few minutes later.

 **=X=X=**

"Well, since you both apologized to each other…" The instructor hemmed and hawed about whether to place the chipette on the list for detention. There were a few things that stopped her. Brittany had been a rather good student. She kept her nose clean as far as her academics and conduct was concerned, while Peggy had always had a behavioral issue when it came to her pride. But that didn't excuse Brittany for nearly breaking the girl's nose. If her punch had landed on the bridge of her nose, then Peggy would've needed more than just a few tissues for the nosebleed, not to mention a visit to a doctor.

But that stopped her.

She excused Peggy from her office, before turning to Brittany who still sat before her. "Say, Brittany, have you been in any trouble with Peggy lately? It almost looked like you were looking for a fight."

"That was a fight?" Brittany asked innocently.

The older woman shook her head. "If it _was_ one, it's the shortest one I've ever seen. But listen. Let me be the one to tell you that when you came to class today, I almost felt like I was watching Alvin in a wig. Don't you think so, too?"

She hit the nail right on the head.

Brittany was horrified. Was she inheriting Alvin's traits?

"Alvin's had this parkour kick for a long time. I should know, 'cause he used to practice in the gym. I saw you run like him. I saw you _roll_ like him. I saw you get competitive like him. And…" The instructor hesitated. "I saw you hit Peggy the same way I saw him nearly try to knock a bully's front teeth out when he was picking on Theodore. Is everything all right-"

"I'm fine." Brittany interrupted. "It's been hard. It's been a hard three months-"

"Didn't figure that you'd miss him. Why, I still remember when you came to school with your hair dyed red." The woman held back a chuckle. "Classic shampoo-dye prank."

"I do miss him. He's my friend." 'More than that,' Brittany thought to herself.

" _Just a friend?" Alvin catcalled in mock-disappointment._

"Keep working on it," Brittany muttered to herself to answer the Seville.

"What was that?" The coach asked, raising an eyebrow at the girl's murmuring. Brittany looked up, having been caught by surprise.

"Um…I said that I'd work on my behavior," Brittany lied. "I've got to get going before I'm late for my next class."

"I won't keep you. But next time, Brittany?"

"Yes?"

"Please refrain from trying to break people's noses?"

"Yes ma'am." Brittany recognized that while there was some humor in the woman's tone, she was serious. She got the underlying message: _Don't let me see you in this office again._ "I'll be on my best behavior."

"Good."

 **=X=X=**

"How is he?"

"About the same as yesterday, Miller," the nurse answered. "But I've been hearing talk that he's not getting better. If his situation doesn't improve…" She leaned forward conspiringly. "The doctors around here might get tempted to ask Dave if they can pull the plug on the poor boy."

"What?!" Brittany shouted. "They can't do that!" She was pulling attention, getting stares and disturbing the others in the hospital.

"Shhh, shhh!" The nurse shushed the distraught chipettes. "Look, he's not improving. He **still** hasn't even woken up yet! I mean sure, his bones are mending well, but his muscles are getting atrophied…you know, turning into mush since he's not moving. And…he's basically been getting his dinners through a tube into a vein in his arm."

"I know it looks bad, but I'm sure he'll get better. He has to!"

"I hope so too." The nurse turned and left the room, leaving Brittany with the comatose Alvin. "Remember that you have until six pm, same as always." Brittany's eyes snapped to the clock. It read out that it was a few minutes past five pm.

"I will." The door closed, granting her privacy. She stayed like this for a while, before Alvin disturbed the quiet, the one from inside her head, that is.

" _So, how do I look? Still handsome, right?"_

Brittany looked over his limp body, still connected to machines and drips before she nodded. "You look better than you did the first time. There was a lot of blood and broken bones then. But you're still in a coma."

" _Obviously."_ Alvin was disappointed. He sounded mournful, and Brittany, despite herself, asked him why.

" _I…I wish I could see you."_ Alvin coughed again; it sounded thick. _"Damn. This accident ruined my life…Heh-heh. But I guess it was for the better."_ He tried to sing a song, but he started to suffer another coughing fit; this one lasted longer than usual.

"Are you all right?" Brittany asked anxiously, her concern spiked. "What's going on?"

" _I'm…fine."_ Alvin said lowly, before he tried to sing what was on his mind.

" _~And I had my way,  
I ran to the rescue.  
It hardly worked out that way,  
Look at us now.~" _

Alvin settled into his tune, and continued:

" _~Oh, all the boys rushing.  
A battle just to get you.  
All the boys want you.  
Started giving up.~"_

His coughing fit came again, affecting him even more than before. Brittany felt tears prick at her eyes, realizing that the longer he remained in her head, the more he would suffer and make it less likely that he would ever wake up. She continued the verse, singing softly as she clutched his hand.

"~I don't wanna let you go…  
But I can't stand to watch this.  
I didn't wanna let you know…

But now you're on my mind!  
Love! I feel it all the time,  
I know that I love you!~"

Alvin picked up.

" _~But you had me under spell right from the start!  
I wish that I'd had a telepathic heart!  
But now, returning love in kind,  
Here, just to be with you._

 _But now I know just what we are…  
Now I have a telepathic heart!~"_

He was forced to stop; his coughing forced it. "Alvin…"

" _I'm fine. Really."_

"Don't you want to leave?"

"… _If I said yes, would you believe me?"_

"No." Brittany answered. "I wouldn't believe you." Was Alvin actually hesitant to leave? He had long ago said that he liked having her attention; he got that easily due to where he was squatting but that was no excuse. While they would continue to be close, they both had lives to live, and a line had to be drawn. He wasn't getting better, and his coma was drawing out for too long. "Alvin, come back to the world. Come back to life. Come back to me. Please."


	9. Self-Gratification into First-Hour -Redo

**9\. Self-Gratification into First-Hour (2.0)**

She couldn't sleep.

It had been a difficult few days, even more so than all else for the past few months. Stress was rising to an all time high, and so was her libido. Brittany knew her own body's calendar like the back of her hand. However, knowing the date didn't necessarily make her feel any better.

It was around two weeks before her period.

The pink Miller laid down on her bed belly down whilst fully covered under the sheets. She had her tablet and she was browsing through her Facebook, liking this and that, making comments, et cetera. But as her (bad) luck would have it, her she was somewhere around her ovulation date. The first sign was that all her male friends on the social networking site were suddenly looking far more attractive than they actually were. The second was that her sites kept getting more and more risky and risqué. The third sign was that her loins were heating up to a languid, yet uncomfortable temperature, begging for indulgence.

First, she went to Ashley Madison, despite being under-aged, to log in and check out her profile to see if any other members had sent her any racy and lewd messages. She knew she was sensitive; in the past, she had gotten thrills and even small orgasms from merely reading messages sent to her that were strong and sexually suggestive. Like phone sex as an example, but in texts. It was a bit kinky but it was her kink, so it worked for her.

Some of the messages were old, dating back by at least a few months; they were from men (and a few women) believing that she was in her mid-twenties as her untruthful profile had shown. She had no fascination in them, only in the messages they sent in an effort to get her interested in them, trying to boost their attractiveness. This time, however, she found no pleasure in them, and decided to swing by another website, this time, it was Established Men. Although the men here could be even more lewd and mysterious, Brittany had been hoping that would mean more of a satisfaction, somewhat. She was wrong.

She was getting a bit desperate. She was willing to take acceptable risks, like reading these messages. After six months, it had been established that Alvin was not aware of what she did in her day-to-day activities unless she either wrote about it in her diary or told him herself. Despite this, it still took a grand total of five months to get used to bathing or cleaning up after her monthly bleeds without closing her eyes, afraid that he might see through them. Reading these texts and messages were like acceptable risks to her, but to go further would be like diving into trouble without testing the waters.

Speaking of testing…

"Alvin? You awake?" She called out in a whisper. It was chancy, but she felt that it would be a bigger risk to go on without making sure. Besides, it'd be a real let-down if he suddenly started talking to her while she was… um… spicing the taco. In fact, she was far more worried about Alvin catching her in the act than her own sisters; Alvin would be the last person on earth she wanted to find out about her acts of masturbation.

No answer.

She called out to him again, a little louder this time. Still no answer. She didn't try again, lest she woke her sisters.

Now secure in the knowledge that even if Alvin would and could detect what she was doing, but was asleep, Brittany went over to Tumblr and typed in 'Handsome Men', looking for posts that she could let her imagination run wild on.

There were tons of results, each picture even better looking than the last. The posts were all in top quality; but no matter what, she was still wholly unsatisfied. But the last website she wanted to visit required another room entirely to be in, aside from being in the bedroom she was sharing with her sleeping sisters.

Brittany eased herself from under her sheets and let herself down off of her bed. Stealthily, she made her way over to the closet in the corner of the room and began rummaging through the contents therein.

 **=X=X=**

His eyes opened, already searching for familiarities as he brought himself up from his slumber. They were all there. He was still in the replica of the Miller household, rooted in Brittany's mind. He had come to the conclusion that he had come to be stuck here because of his personal wishes. Some deity or shooting star or blue moon had granted his desires of being Brittany's center of attention, but for good reasons. Why it had to be done by such a disastrous accident, he had no idea.

Nevertheless, it had worked. He was now closer to Brittany, closer than humanly possible, even closer than the nature of Siamese twins. But it was so ironic; they were so close, yet there was hardly any physical contact. What's more, none of them, technically, hadn't seen the other for the past six months.

And yet, why was he still here?

Neither he nor Brittany had a clue as to how he could re-enter the realm of reality. It was starting to really take a toll on him, both mentally and physically. He yearned to be with her, to be in each other's arms; the cons had finally outweighed the pros of staying here in her mind. But that didn't mean that he knew how to escape. Furthermore, he could tell that her mind might have been metabolizing him, absorbing him or something of the like. What else could explain why she was adopting more and more of his tendencies, his strengths and boyish inclinations while he grew steadily weaker? Things weren't looking too good.

He began to cough, a thick and repulsive sound. He barely managed to suppress it by coughing into the inside of his elbow. Afterwards, he realized that he was hearing something foreign. Hearing, in and of itself was something new; there wasn't really anything that could make any sounds for him to hear save for whenever Brittany was speaking (or singing) to him.

Brittany was quiet.

So what the heck was making those sounds that seemed to be coming from downstairs?

His personal aches and distresses forgotten, he limped out of Brittany's bed and headed downstairs. Although tricky, Alvin had long mastered the tricks and mazes of the house and soon found himself back in the living room where he whiled away most of his days. The television was still on. He always left it on; the static helped kill the dead silence of the house (with 'white noise') whenever Brittany wasn't speaking to him, or asleep. For the past two or three months, the television had briefly shown splotches of color every now and again. Other times, it played a little audio. It was mostly like an echoing of whenever Brittany spoke, so he ignored it. He hadn't bothered to tell the chipette about these things because he had thought them insignificant.

Insignificant?

Alvin's eyes widened once she made it to the living room and saw fresh color shining and splayed out on the surrounding walls, courtesy of the television. 'Wait… it's _working_?!' Alvin could hardly believe his eyes as he shuffled over to the television and stood before it, staring closely. 'It's WORKING!' He yelled in thought excitedly. Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting! He thought he could hear something from it too, but once he turned up the volume on the television set, he realized that everything was working perfectly. Was this a fluke? Who cared? This was a far welcome respite from merely lying about the house all day, right?

However, on a far more important note, what was he watching?

It looked like something shot from the first perspective, like some of his favorite video games. Although he was used to it, he couldn't very well say that he knew any movies that utilized such a viewing tactic. What kind of a movie would be shot from the perspective of someone's viewpoint? A movie seen out of someone else's eyes? A movie through the standpoint of a cameraman, maybe?

With a shrug, Alvin took a few steps back to seat himself on the couch. Entertainment was entertainment, he supposed, and anything was welcome. But he had to wonder why the movie's setting seemed so… _familiar_? Wait, wait, wait… why was… wait… a girl protagonist? This was a female starring the movie, right? (He could tell from the petite hands and the neat manicure). However, something felt off. Really off. In fact, he was beginning to feel a lot of things right now, most of which was mainly confusion. "What kind of a weird movie is this?" He asked himself. He decided that he'd just wait and watch, just to see what would happen.

The person appeared to be rooting through a closet. Alvin watched with small bated breath, wondering if he would see a horrifying jump-scare. No such thing occurred, but he did see the pair of hands finally grasp a shoe-box that appeared to be hidden in a dark corner. The hands then removed the lid and pulled out some kind of… pink… stick thing.

Wait… backtrack a bit…

Alvin thought to himself what he had seen on the lid of the box. There had been some sort of label, title or something of the sort. 'Wait… I think it said 'B-M'. What does that stand for? 'B-M'?' He turned the thought over and over in his mind before realization finally dawned on him.

"Hey, Brittany!" He bellowed, hoping to get her attention.

 **=X=X=**

She hadn't fully been at ease given her wanderings into a semi-carnal territory, but she had calmed down when she finally came to believe that her entire household was asleep. To finish, she retrieved her lewd toy from its hiding place and was about to head off to the bathroom-

" _Hey, Brittany!"_

"AHHHHH!" A shriek tore from lips as the sudden yell wrenched her from her calm state. In her fright, she very nearly dashed the incriminating toy away. "What the hell was that?!" She shouted in panic, before recognizing that the foreign voice was Alvin's, coming deep from within her own mind. "Alvin?!" She hissed loudly in rebuke. "Are you _trying_ to give me a **heart-attack**?!"

" _I just wanted to ask you what you were holding! I was just watching the TV in here, and I saw you take out that thing and I was wondering what it was-"_

His explanation was cut short as her forgotten sisters were now rousing themselves from sleep and rubbing at their eyes to clear up their vision. "Brittany?" Eleanor called out groggily. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, Brittany?" This came from Jeanette, who yawned widely. "Where's the fire?"

Caught like a fish in a barrel, Brittany gaped at the racy toy in her hand awkwardly and before hiding it behind her and stuffed the damned thing halfway-down her pajama pants to conceal it. Trying to ignore the awkward bulge the cussed thing made against her backside, she made her response. "Nothing, nothing! I just had a nightmare! Go back to sleep." Her voice was pleading. Now, she was really regretting not having gone to bed… damn hormones! "Only a nightmare."

Eleanor blinked in disbelief. "Then why the heck are you standing in front of the closet?"

"Um…" Brittany dug deep for a believable lie but could find none. "I… was sleepwalking?" She said lamely.

" _Really?"_ Alvin was stumped as he listened in while watching the television; there was no surprise that he layered the sarcasm all over his words. _"That's all you got?"_

"You be _quiet_!" Brittany whispered fiercely, knowing that he heard. "Anyway," she said louder this time. "Don't fret about it!" She quickly brainstormed for a reason to bug out of the room in a hurry. "I'm gonna go get some water." She walked backwards to the bedroom door, keeping her concealed item out of their view and left in similar fashion. She bumbled in her attempts, but since she didn't mess up her primary objective of hiding the toy, it was worth it. She was soon gone, and Eleanor turned to face Jeanette.

"I think she's crazy," Eleanor deadpanned as soon as she was sure that her sister had left.

"Now, now, Ellie!" Jeanette chastised. "We can't think that about our own sister! Although…" The chipette scratched at her chin. "Then again… maybe she's not far from it."

The green Miller merely shrugged. "Do you think she was 'saucing the taco' again? Does she really think we don't know about it?"

"We can't let her know that we know about it!" Jeanette protested. "Besides, it'd be too awkward. I knew we shouldn't have been snooping in her shoeboxes for shoes we could wear…"

"Forget that." Eleanor was about to go back to sleep when a new thought came to her. "Come to think of it… didn't she yell Alvin's name after she screamed?"

Jeanette's jaw dropped in disbelief as she thought of the implications. "Was she thinking of him when she-...Oh my God."

 **=X=X=**

Brittany padded silently on her bare-feet through the front door, before making a beeline to the trash-cans. Removing her leery object from its hiding place, she (regretfully) tossed it into the can before slamming the can's lid down in finality, its resounding clang was like a mere echo of her mood and realization.

For so long, she had thought that her privacy was gone. And now to hear Alvin's rambling about the television in her head that was showing him what she saw…

Now it was. Her privacy was now well and truly gone.

The chipette felt like crying. "Oh God, why?. How the hell am I going to shower now?" While her main thought, it wasn't her main concern. Just taking a bath was one of the many things that Alvin could now see freely. Who knows what else? Her embarrassing doodles in her notebooks at school about drawing both she and Alvin in hearts? The girl's locker room after gym class?!

Alvin had no response to that. What could he say? But being Alvin, he still had something to say regardless.

" _Um… Brittany? I don't know if this is a bad time… but could you go watch a late night movie on TV?"_

Brittany groaned as she headed back inside the house. "No, Alvin. I've got school tomorrow."


	10. Forward into a New Dawn

**10\. Forward into a New Dawn**

"Seven months…"

"Hmm…?" Brittany looked up from the television to regard Simon. "Did you say something?"

No. She had heard him. Definitely. She was merely challenging him to say it once more. Could be the 'Alvin' side of her; she'd probably imbibed his headstrong personality, and it was challenging Simon. Whether or not Simon was aware of this made no difference; he was stepping up to it.

"It's been seven months. 'Seven months', was what I previously stated." He fixed his glasses with a forefinger; a somewhat menacing lens glare made him look all the more intimidating. "Enjoying the program, Brittany? I never knew that you were a fan of wrestling."

She nearly told him 'hell no'. She was merely suffering through it for Alvin's sake. As far as she was concerned, it was like a favor. He was tired of watching her 'chick flicks' on her marathon movie nights, and she was obliging him. But she was somewhat happy to grant him the act of goodwill.

If only he didn't cheer so much while he watched through her eyes, she'd be even happier. "I'm fine with watching it," she fibbed as she gave him a dirty look. "And what's with the whole 'seven months' thing? Are you turning into a calendar or something?"

" _Easy, easy!"_ Alvin cried from the recesses of her mind. _"Eyes on the TV! You're missing the trademark moves!"_ Brittany acquiesced to his pleas and returned to staring at the television. She had to admit, while it was somewhat entertaining (damn the fact that she was beginning to _think_ like Alvin!), the wrestling looked… staged. Pun intended.

"This is so fake!" Brittany muttered.

" _Most of it's real!"_ Alvin defended. Brittany had to refrain from rolling her eyes at his response as it would only serve to give her crush a fit; the last time she did it whilst he was watching the television through her eyes, it made him dizzy.

"Whatever," she muttered in response to him. However, she noticed that Simon was still standing next to where she was sitting on the couch. "You still here?"

"This is **my** house, Brittany. Why couldn't you watch this inane drivel at your house?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Got outvoted two-to-one by my sisters. They wanted to watch 'Deadly Women'." Brittany had to suppress a shiver as she thought about the show's 'eccentricities'. "Guess they've moved on from MTV and watching 'Spice Girls' music videos."

Simon nodded. "And you… chose to move on to watch… wrestling," he deadpanned in a tone that was slightly reflecting skepticism. "Unbelievable."

"What's that 'seven months' business for? Reminding me when's your next birthday?"

Simon neglected to rise to the taunt. "It's been seven months," he said again. "I've waited. Seven months. If…" The blue Seville hesitated. "If he manages to wake now, he'll be able to retain his higher level thought processes, his mentalities. Proper fine motor control in all his actions. A decent conscience. After seven months, there aren't any promises or guarantees that he'll be the same Alvin… if he wakes up."

" _When_ he wakes up," Brittany stated quietly, yet resolutely, "he'll be the same Alvin."

"You sound awfully sure," Simon observed.

"You sound awfully pessimistic," she bit back. "Aren't you his brother? Have some faith." At this, Simon's anger grew, but he managed to curb it, if only barely. He calmly took a seat next to the chipette and sighed; he was weary.

"Brittany… I'm tired." He took off his glasses and rested it in his shirt pocket. Everything looked blurry, but that still would have been the case had he kept his glasses on; his tears ensured that. "I'm tired of seeing his empty place at breakfast. I'm tired of seeing his empty seat at school. I'm tired of seeing his empty place on the school bus. I'm tired of seeing his empty place at dinner. I'm tired of seeing his empty bed next to mine when it's bedtime. I'm tired of _not_ seeing my brother. And now… I get the feeling… premonition, hunch, omen… that he won't be the same when he wakes up." He rubbed his long-sleeved arms over his eyes in an effort to wipe away his tears but was only mildly successful. But in a strange turn of events, he started to chuckle, before it blew up into a mirthless laughter. "And to think… seven months ago, I would've given anything for him to change."

"… I'm sure he's fine," Brittany said at last. "He'll wake soon. I guess you're the one who's starting to worry me."

"It's not about **me** ," Simon said abruptly, "this is about _you_."

"Huh?" Brittany fell quiet, wondering what this was all about. "Me?"

"My sight may not be perfect, but I've noticed these little… changes. **You**. You've _changed_."

Growing leery of his sudden change in argument, she tried to play it off with feigned ignorance. "Part of life, I guess. Growing up? Maturity?" Simon shook his head to her response.

"Negative on all responses," he pontificated. "Your stance on Alvin has changed, as have your entire profile. On the first night, Alvin saved your life at the expense of his own overall health. You were in shock, yet I could see that you hardly cared. The first few days, your behavior started to alter. You reacted to stimuli, situations, and people differently, as if you were having a mental breakdown. This still seemed normal to me; I thought that guilt was starting to eat at your psyche."

Brittany was silent. He had hit the metaphorical nail right on the head.

"Afterwards, you started to exhibit more paranoia, as if suspicious of people watching you. Behavior that is typical of people hiding something. You spent more time in the library than previous, researching. A friendly tip: you should delete your search history after using a public computer."

"Oh my God." Brittany covered her mouth in shock. "Did you snoop on that?! Doesn't _**anyone**_ know the meaning of privacy?!"

"Researching comas and the nature of their occurrence." Simon's tone grew increasingly serious as he forewent listening to her complaint. "Afterwards, you started… talking to yourself, even more so than what is considered normal and healthy. After three months, your personality began changing to mirror that of Alvin's. Overall, you're no longer adverse to him, in fact, probably closer to him somehow, your personality corresponds with his and you speak to yourself as if you're speaking to him…"

Brittany was now deathly afraid that Simon was on to her secret.

"You might be manifesting an impression of Alvin in your subconscious," Simon theorized, "and unconsciously began to emulate him to lead yourself to believe that he'll wake up soon or worse, think he's still around."

"…" Alvin could no longer fake disinterest. _"So what's he saying? That I'm fake? That I'm not real...?"_

Alvin repeating in lame terms was nearly enough to make Brittany lose her temper. "Simon, that's crazy-"

"Listen." The chipmunk's instruction lost its veto authority vibe and sounded more like a request, "our families are friends. Best friends. Perhaps even more so." He sighed deeply. "I'm not accusing you. I merely said all of this out of concern. I might've already lost my brother-"

"He's gonna wake up!" Brittany nearly screamed in her tempest.

"-…Temporarily," he finished his earlier sentence as if he hadn't been interrupted at all, "I don't want to be the one to tell him when he wakes up that the girl he had blossoming affections for had to be carted off to the 'funny farm'."

" _Damn it, Si! I knew you couldn't keep a secret!"_ Alvin bellowed. His volume nearly made Brittany's head ache, but she got it under control.

"I already know," Brittany mumbled in response to both chipmunks. "I appreciate the warning. Although Simon? I think Jeanette should teach you a little more empathy for others. And would it kill you to be more _positive_?"

His rebuttal was sharp. "Would it kill you to **care** _more_?"

 **=X=X=**

Brittany's awakening was slow, her joints popping barely disturbing the sleeping of her sisters in the cool of the early morning. Her thoughts were a bit muddled; it was for a good reason. Her dreams were tormented by Simon's lecture the night before. "You know what, Alvin? You don't exist, and I'm crazy."

Apparently, he was awake as well. _"I'm real. I know I am."_

Brittany laughed to herself. "That sounds like something a figment of my imagination would say."

Although she wasn't alone in her mind, her thoughts were her last confidential fortress for privacy. She had to wonder…

What if Simon was right?

Had she really only conceived Alvin in her imagination?

It was horribly likely.

Her diary… no. She wrote in the diary, and he knew what she wrote. Because he was in her mind, right? As you write, you 'say' the words in the forefront of your mind.

She spoke aloud. She talked to him as if he were actually there. Wait… if she spoke words in her mind as she wrote, wouldn't that mean that he should hear if he were in her head? No… it was her own crazy way of convincing herself that he existed. He subsisted in her head, but not her mind. It was as if he was always right by her side, or looking over her shoulder.

Alvin's personality? Sure, she walked in his shoes. It simply wouldn't do if she spoke to an Alvin that acted like a Brittany. She, of course, well knew his mannerisms and the more she spoke to 'him', the more she acted like him. This was actually one of the many ways that a person developed new and different personalities… simply by believing that they spoke to another personality factor.

What about his suffering? She knew about it. He probably needed to get back into his body!

Of course not. That was merely a symbol of her impatience for him to wake from his coma.

But what about his hints, his little tips, his-

No… it was popular and common knowledge that 'the brain knows more than the mind'. The subconscious was aware of far more than the normal bandwidth of consciousness.

Then what about the flower in her diary?

No… She thought about it some more. She merely found that flower in the trash and pressed it. There was no proof that her mind didn't fabricate the story behind it.

In short…

Alvin was still in his hospital bed. Comatose. Dead to the world. Nothing more. She imagined an Alvin in her head that she could talk to, in an effort to console herself, to assuage her guilt for getting Alvin hurt because of her jay-carelessness, and to help convince herself that he was going to be _just_ fine.

" _So, Brittany?"_ Alvin called. _"What's next?"_

Brittany didn't answer.

" _Yo, Brittany? Whatcha doing?"_

Brittany's eyes slowly shut as she tried to ignore his calls, but as they slowly opened, aqua-ice slowly melting salty streams.

'Alvin? Are you… _real?_ '

This was revelation. This was reality. This was _**truth**_.

…

But what of _**dreams…?**_

He was all a dream, wasn't he? If she had somehow manifested his presence in her mind, why? To comfort herself? Then what's the harm done by indulging in it?

'But that means I'm back to square one. I'm not rearing to go chasing after him anymore. I don't even know how he feels about me. If and when he wakes up, he'll just go right back to pranking me. Even if it is just like Ms. Miller said, he was doing it for attention-'

No.

What did _Simon_ say?

'Wait. He said he had affections for me! There's… still… something!' Hope began to blossom, growing concurrently with her rise in emotion. She let herself off of the bed to go over to the window to look outside at the dawning sun; a slowly brightening aura looming out of the horizon. "Alvin?" She called quietly. Only one other heard her appeal.

" _Yeah?"_

"… Do you think…" The question sounded reluctant to leave past her lips, but it had to be said. "Do you think he loves me?"

"…" Alvin had an idea where this was going. He was already beginning to doubt his own existence; after all, one does not simply come to exist in another person's head. He _felt_ real, but that wasn't enough. As he sat on the sofa, he noticed that the front door's knob was turning; soon enough, the door began to open, and bright light spilled from its entrance. He had no idea what it meant, but it felt… welcoming.

Like _rapture_.

"Alvin?" Brittany asked again. "Do you think he loves me?"

Alvin didn't reply right away. Instead, he got up and approached the doorway. It was like a wall of light and it was impossible to see beyond it. " _Brittany, I know that I love you. I'm sure that he loves you too."_

He then stepped through the doorway into the light with full intent and purpose.

…

 _Somewhere, far away, a pair of eyes woke from their slumber._

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **WHEW!**

 **-Damn, no author notes throughout. Felt like I was holding my breath for three months!**

 **Oh… so THAT'S how long this fic's been going on for.**

 **Did you all prefer it when I was quiet? Did it flow better?**

 **Anyway…**

 **-Well, this was my first experimentation that went down without any sort of plan. If you predicted that twist, I guess that means you could have written this fic better than I did because it surprised the heck outta me. But it felt logical, realistic and… skeptical, all at the same time. It answers a lot of questions and raises even more. You can't even be sure if he WAS a figment of her imagination, or he was real. If he was fake, where's the proof? If he was real, where's the proof? And the coincidences were numerous! I bet you're all like 'Wut the heck just happened?'**

 **Me too. Me too.**

 **I hope no one's disappointed, or raving 'WHERE'S THE REST OF IT!'. I'm too young to die!**

 **-For the previous chapter, it was also an experimental idea. While yeah, I'm 'technically' a mature individual, I'm yet to write a 'mature' piece of work. I was just feeling my way into the area. Always wondered what'd be like to write a lemon, or something close to it…**

 **Maybe I never will. Or anytime soon, at least.**

 **The reviewer who criticized me about it, thanks. I needed that kick in the aft end. Everyone, tell Anonymous 'thanks' for the revamp! It did mesh better with the story. I even went back and substituted certain words for terms, and desensitized the theme a little bit more. I ain't a perfect being, but this was close to it.**

 **-This story has two alternate endings, in addition to this one. I was thinking of tagging them on to this, but I decided not to and annoy you with these notes instead. I plan on writing a HUGE string of one-shots as one fic, combined with deleted chapters of stories (including ODAT's now infamous CHAPTER NINE in case anyone wants a repost), a few 'Slices of Life' chapters combined with Pop Culture, aforementioned alternate endings and more. Ideas galore!**

 **Something to get excited about, I guess? But I'll wait until I finish AATC: Territory. It's not too long a wait.**

 **-Finally, about Vos Mos Amplio's story (All According to Plan) that cameoed this one… yes. Yes, this** _ **was**_ **a SUPER WEIRD story.**

 **Goodbye, everyone!/Valete omnes!**

 **M. Ray 4 The Win.**


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